The Sword of Cyrus: A Thriller (A Rossler Foundation Mystery Book 4)

by JC Ryan

  Obviously, 250 kilos was too heavy and too bulky. But half a kilo, that was more than manageable, and would require only a few dozen of the small bombs in most cities to utterly destroy the center of the city, creating confusion and panic in the outlying areas. The city centers, if hit during the workday, would contain the most important people in the region; the leaders, the heads of household. Fewer bombs still would handle military bases and any ability to retaliate.

  A different strategy from the July 4th bombing of last year would have to be pursued. That attack was coordinated to take place at exactly the same moment as the eight p.m. bombing in Washington, DC. It was designed more to demonstrate the Ayatollah’s power than to do any real and lasting harm. This attack was meant to destroy the West. They would strike each region when it would do the most harm, kill the most people. After that, the rest would surrender, though of course there would be some confusion and some intention to rush to the aid of those first attacked. That would only help in the mission; since the attacks would begin in the Pacific, the US would be fully engaged in its usual white-knight race to help and would therefore not be anticipating an attack on their soil.

  To test the power of the explosion would require even less material, a few grams at most. The researchers sent a message to Dalir Jahandar requesting a bunker of hardened concrete in which to do it. Jahandar sent back a message that there was no time to build one. Test a smaller amount yet of the material, he suggested. After all, this was nanotechnology. Accordingly, the test was designed. Four scientists were privileged to watch and measure the destructive power of a few grams of the fuel, all of whom were killed when the building in which they were doing the test was reduced to rubble, or, more accurately, dust, along with several buildings surrounding it. The test was deemed a success, and the dead celebrated as martyrs in the cause. That was of little comfort to their families, but they were well compensated and continued to live in contentment in their luxurious dwellings in the compound.

  The owners of the surrounding buildings that were destroyed also received adequate compensation for their cooperation in saying nothing. No news of the accident of unknown origin that caused minor damage in the little town of Esfahan reached even the larger cities of Iran, much less international news.

  In an unexpected bonus, the remaining scientists also determined that all electronic equipment within a mile of the explosion had been irreparably fried by the electromagnetic pulse engendered by the bomb. From this knowledge, it wasn’t a large leap of logic to determine that the most destructive effect would be from an explosion above the target. Their recommendation, therefore, was for air strikes, rather than ground deployment.

  Now it was up to the logistics experts to determine how to deliver the little packages of destruction to their intended targets, and before that, how to get them into the target countries. The scientists were tasked with finding a way to safely transport the fuels without detection.

  ~~~

  March, Tehran

  Dalir Jahandar called a meeting of the council of twelve of the Sword of Cyrus to discuss strategy, tactics, and targets. He’d heard from his scientists that they must know the targets to plan the weapons and how to get them to their assigned targets. What, he asked his lieutenants, was the objective and how would they reach it. Behind the question was his lifelong obsession with restoring the empire of his multiple-great-grandfather, Cyrus the Great. His inclination was to do it by stealth, just as Cyrus had conquered Babylon more than 2,500 years ago. He felt it would be extremely satisfying to watch infidels die in confusion. His lieutenants agreed.

  Because the nanonukes would be the most expensive and most difficult to build and get to their intended targets, the council decided they would be saved for the most visible targets; capital cities, centers of industry and military bases. Anything else that needed mopping up could be accomplished with nanopoison dust, in due time. In this way, they could kill millions if the cities were by chance evacuated, or if the nukes failed to live up to their expectations.

  The added advantage would be the total destruction of any country with the capability to strike back. For the minor players, countries with a majority of non-Muslim faith, they would also be conquered in the same way that Arua was devastated. That meant most of Africa and South America. The decision on Asia was postponed, since several Asian countries were allies. However, when all was done, Dalir would require all survivors to embrace Islam, without exception.

  For reasons of his own, Mokri suggested that the attacks take place on the beginning day of Hajj, which would be on the western calendar day of July 29 this year. Could they be ready by late July? No one knew. It was another question for the scientists.

  When they had finished these discussions, a guest was ushered in. Oleg Zlatovski stepped briskly into the room and nodded at the members he didn’t know. He held out his hand to shake the hand of Dalir, who simply stared at the extended hand. Suddenly realizing his gaffe, Oleg gave a nervous chuckle and put both hands in his pockets.

  “Good afternoon, Jahandar,” he said, intentionally leaving off any term of Russian or Greek respect. He rather thought that anything but Arabic or Farsi would offend, and he didn’t know those terms. Ordinarily, he would not care whether he offended, but this man, Dalir Jahandar, had an air of command about him that was rather intimidating. Oleg had just been given a tour of the scientific compound in Esfahan, including the destroyed warehouse at Ground Zero of the nanonuke test. With the majority of his pay for services rendered to this group still to be delivered, he thought he knew why he’d been summoned today.

  “Good afternoon, Gospodin Zlatovski. I trust you are well.” The precise English was delivered in tones of ice.

  “Yes, thank you. You required my presence?” Zlatovski was now wary, since Jahandar’s tone had been less than friendly.

  “We require your assistance. You will of course speak of this to no one, on pain of our displeasure.”

  It was such a simple thing, a threat so subtle that it could have almost been a friendly jest. And yet Zlatovski understood perfectly that the consequences could - probably would - be deadly.

  “You have no need to worry, my friend. Oleg Zlatovski is very discreet. What assistance do you require?” His English was heavily accented with his native Russian pronunciation, rendering the Ws as Vs and the vowels all guttural.

  “You must help us determine where best to deploy the powerful weapons that our scientists have developed. As you know, the weapons are small, and the destructive power enormous.”

  “What is your objective?” asked Oleg, thinking only of the mission, not yet of betrayal, though it would cross his mind later.

  “To destroy any capacity of the West, or the rest of the world, for that matter, to resist Islam. We intend to kill the leaders and destroy military bases that would retaliate. We also want to kill as many civilians as we can in the first strike so that the will of the people to fight back is broken. Tell us where to best place them to eradicate city centers, and where military installations are that have long-distance retaliatory capability.” The plan was audacious, world-changing in fact. Never before had such an objective been voiced, to Oleg’s knowledge. He sucked in his breath.

  “Very well. I trust you will have no objection if I transfer my financial dealings to Iranian banks?” A nervous chuckle escaped him before he could suppress it, and he turned terror-stricken eyes on Jahandar.

  “None at all. I see we understand each other. You will not speak of it to others.” Jahandar repeated the obvious.

  “Certainly not,” Oleg snapped. Bringing his fears to heel with an effort, he said, “We are going to need a very large world map, and some push pins.”

  “My friend, you are behind the times,” answered Dalir. With a click of a remote control, a digital flat-screen covering the entire wall of the conference room descended from the ceiling. A few keystrokes on the laptop in front of him caused the entire screen to fill with a detailed world map, comp
lete with countries, cities and time zones. Another click turned the United States red.

  “This is our primary objective. Destroy the US, and we destroy the will of the rest to resist. They must go above all,” Dalir explained needlessly.

  “Just so. You will of course hit Washington, DC, and New York City. How do I mark the targets?” Oleg asked, adjusting to the technology smoothly.

  Dalir handed Oleg a remote with a laser pointer. “Aim with the pointer and click the plus sign. Do the same and click minus to remove it. Use the keypad to let us know the approximate area of the target. We’ll determine the number of weapons needed.”

  Oleg did not answer, but instead pointed the laser at Washington, DC. A figure of 60 square miles appeared next to the city.

  “Refine it. Just the area of the most government buildings, banks and such,” Dalir demanded. “Assume destructive power of ten kilometers or so.” Dalir was guessing, based on his scientists’ comparison of the theoretical power of the nanonukes as compared to the A-bomb that destroyed Hiroshima. They thought it would be at least twice as powerful, and Little Boy had wiped out everything within a two and a half-kilometer radius from ground zero.

  “You’d do best to deploy them in the center of the Pentagon, and near the Capitol, then,” replied Oleg. “That will do the most damage to government. Add targets of the White House and Union Station for the most psychological impact. But good luck getting into any of those places besides Union Station.”

  “Leave that to us to handle. Where else?”

  “Fort Knox. The New York Stock Exchange, Cape Canaveral, Cheyenne Mountain near Colorado Springs, Los Angeles, Detroit, Chicago, Dallas.” As he named major cities, Oleg rapidly marked them with his laser pointer. “You’ll have to look up the area of each target, I don’t know it all off the top of my head.” Some, he knew, were compact pockets of extreme power and wealth, others were spread out over thousands of square kilometers. He couldn’t fathom the number of bombs that would be needed.

  “Wait,” said Jahandar. We need not destroy every large city in the country, nor every country in the West. Which would be most effective as demonstrations? Cripple them, and the rest will crumple.

  “In that case,” replied Oleg, “The US, the United Kingdom, and Israel.” For good measure, knowing that his home country would execute him if they knew he was alive, he added, “Russia.”

  “Military installations?” Jahandar prompted. These were highly important, not only to destroy the ability to retaliate, but for psychological purposes.

  Oleg marked each of the largest, putting several dots around the locations of NORAD installations across the continent. He then moved to Europe and began marking important military bases there. Noting that one big US military installation was in Greece, he made a mental note to sell his holdings there as quickly as possible and move to Turkey.

  The meeting went on for some hours as Oleg marked cities and military installations in the UK and Russia and important financial or industrial centers, as well as NATO-controlled military bases.

  “I want you to also mark important targets in Australia. Those bastards are too close to the US, politically, and they have been fighting with the US against our people for decades now.” snarled Dalir. Oleg looked at him in surprise. In all their dealings, Dalir had never before used an off-color reference in speech. He must really hate Australians.

  “Okay. Canberra, of course; Sydney, Brisbane, Melbourne. Pine Gap.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We never were quite sure. Highly classified, must be something of value there. It’s a military installation in the Outback and they almost certainly are hosting a few nukes there for their US friends. I’ll get coordinates for you.” Oleg’s mind was reeling at the enormity of the plan. His admiration for Dalir grew as the other asked pertinent questions and made sharp observations.

  When the targets had been finalized and agreed upon, Dalir instructed Oleg to set it up, from the transport of the materiel into the target countries, to the personnel tasked with carrying out the manufacture and launch of the bombs.

  “One more thing, Oleg,” he said. “Make sure that nothing can interfere. Compartmentalize the assets as before, and instruct them to continue with the plans as you have laid them out, even if they see or hear something they think might change the situation. They must execute their instructions precisely on the day and time as you have instructed, and they must understand that it is the only instruction they will receive. There will be no further communication once you have set them in motion.”

  “Understood,” Oleg acknowledged. “You’ll get the plans to me securely?”

  “Of course,” responded Dalir. His mind was already on a detail they might otherwise have missed. The bomb plans must include a fail-safe that would trigger them if they failed to explode after a signal was sent to them as planned. They may not reach their intended destination, but they’d do some damage. Major damage, in fact.

  When Oleg was finally released, Reza had another suggestion.

  “You know, I was talking with JR Rossler at a Foundation function,” remarked Reza. “We should look into the geology of the western United States. He seems to believe that a vast volcanic field lies under Yellowstone Park. Perhaps a few of our little surprises would trigger it to erupt.”

  “I’ll find a geologist to confirm that. Excellent suggestion.”

  Dalir carefully saved the map image with its targets marked to Sword of Cyrus servers before joining the others for prayers and then a late dinner.

  Roy's toys

  March & April, Boulder

  Roy was happy at the Rossler Foundation, more so than at any time in his past. He liked teaching well enough, as long as there were few women in his classes, but there were no guarantees of that. Of all the star researchers attached to the Rossler Foundation, Roy was the only one who had not gone through the stress of the first Antarctica expedition and the virus. Of course, he’d known of the virus, but it didn’t touch him personally. Just as now the discovery of spies in their midst gave him only mild concern while everyone else was very upset.

  Encouraged by the enthusiastic reception of his Spyfly and the immediate use it was put to, Roy went back to the drawing board to create more of his flying objects. From the tiniest insect he could think of, a mosquito, to the size of a pigeon similar to the drones that Daniel remembered from Sarah’s rescue from her kidnappers years before, Roy had a suggested use for all of them. His idea was that you could equip each of them with a nano version of almost anything you could want. The mosquito, for example, might be equipped with a drug that would render the target unconscious which could come in very handy in hostage and clandestine situations. The person would never guess that he’d been drugged; he’d think he’d been bitten by a mosquito, and the inevitable slap on feeling the sting would drive the drug even deeper into his flesh.

  As the flying objects grew in size, so did their utility. Video cameras such as the Spyfly had, radio transmitters, communications on a battlefield. The list was endless. Each had their special features, from the multiple-shot weapons that the pigeon-sized object carried, to the speed of the hummingbird object—over two hundred miles per hour, with a target accuracy of 99.9%, for high-speed messages when radio and cell towers were down. Some of Roy’s ideas were far-fetched, but his production of the little miracles was beyond compare. He stopped exploring uses for them when Daniel pointed out that if they became much more talented, he’d have to pull the plug on grounds of potential military use.

  Power sources were another big interest of Roy’s. In addition to the fact that he wanted to make his flying inventions more efficient, Roy had dreamed of inventing a nano car battery. Something very small, but with the potential to power a car for a month before being recharged. Not only the cachet that would come with such an invention drove him, but also a deep respect for the environment that made him wish there were something besides hydrocarbon-based fuels and underpowered electric c
ars. His specialty, nanoelectronics, he thought would lend itself to this development. From the time he was given carte-blanche to explore the 10th Cycle nanosphere, he’d been working on this goal.

  Roy began his research by determining a common unit of measurement for the power in each type of battery’s core. Expressed in measurements of watt-hours of stored power per kilogram of core, the results could be compared side-by-side. Thus, an old-style lead acid battery could store a mere 25 watt-hours of electrical power per kilo. Newer core compositions stored much more. A nickel-metal hydride battery could store up to one-hundred watt-hours per kilogram, while the state-of-the art lithium ion cores could store one-hundred and fifty. Roy’s quest was to find a material for the core that would be lighter and yet store and produce a much higher output. In the 10th Cycle library, he found what he was looking for, a lithium-aluminum blend, which, when packed as nanoparticles into a battery core, this material not only represented a much smaller volume for its weight, but was able to store around two-hundred watt-hours per kilogram of core material.

  In the first week of April, he had it. With JR in tow, he attached his briefcase-sized battery in place of the battery in a borrowed electric car. JR folded himself into the cramped passenger seat and Roy got behind the wheel, and they headed down State highway 93 toward Golden. There, they picked up Route 6 and turned west to join I70 as it headed up steeply on the way to Vail Pass. When the car’s speedometer pegged out at 120 mph, blowing past a State trooper like he was standing still, they knew that Roy’s goal had been met, and then some.